I Am Mario
by JH Sounds
Summary: A grim reimagining of the Mario universe and its characters, told from the perspective of the plumber himself.


Chapter One

There I was, knee-deep in shit beneath the streets of Brooklyn. That was basically my life in a nutshell at that point, but the actual experience of wading through human feces took on a whole new meaning once I actually did it. If you lived in the area, chances are pretty good that I've seen the stuff you get rid of when you hit the toilet handle. Perhaps it was a deliberate choice; some people make a living taking care of school kids, others own major restaurant chains. There were only a select few who could handle stuff like this. I, Mario, was one of those few.

Did I think I'd be trudging through ca-ca on a regular basis? Fuck no: I was working on advancing my career, basically had my whole life mapped out. Then I got into the hard stuff and it changed everything. It's hard to remember when I took my first hit, but it was an incredible, sensual, invincible feeling. My quickening reflexes went ahead of my brain though, and I was caught and served time for my actions. That was when my life turned to--

"Did you find it?" squawked Luigi's voice from the radio. Apparently, an automated hatch in the pipeline refused to open, blocking the flow to the outer systems, and no one had the balls to go down and repair the thing. Our company specialized in sewers and jumped at the chance to get paid by the city, but I wasn't exactly begging to go and dive in there myself. Dear brother Luigi didn't have to worry about choking on fumes or even getting his precious tailored suit dirty. He pretty much had to take on the executive position after Papa died, since he had no real skill other than sitting behind a desk. That would leave me to go and work my ass off while he stayed at the office waxing intellectual and basically jerking off.

I could even remember him telling me how wearing a Red Sox cap with my uniform would piss people off. Yeah, it's supposed to. But when the logo is covered in shit by the end of a long day, it doesn't really matter. He absolutely insisted on a strong work ethic, perhaps to make up for his lack of experience. Everyone around us knew it supposed to be me heading the business, since I was first son and the carrier of Papa's name. Who the hell was Luigi to be in charge, anyway? He was always like that: planning for the unexpected, constantly overthinking and generally making a mess out of the English language. I swear, if I had to hear another one of those goddamned sermons again...

Pauline, on the other hand, was someone I could listen to all day. It had to be the way she twisted an ordinary story into something so sweet. That way her eyes twinkled and nose crunched up when she became excited. Most of all, I loved it when she called me "Super", an old nickname I'd adopted when she mistook me for the superintendent of her building.

Our relationship started almost like a porn film. There was the thin, beautiful girl who needed her pipes cleaned; and there was the thickly, mustached plumber ready to give that girl her money's worth. We had the standard awkward silences, the stares, and the general clumsiness, but something was special underneath it all. Just the thought of finishing work and seeing her was all I needed to keep going -- that, and the stuff I took on the side. But I loved Pauline, and I would drop all that just to get the chance to be with her.

I soon realized that my life and my labor were two separate things; I had to get used to that. But it got even worse after I was convicted and locked away. Luigi started pasting his name on everything -- uniforms, trucks, whatever. Our company immediately lost its recognition as reliable business and quickly went into bankruptcy. It wasn't just him; the economy was slowing down for everyone. Work was hard to find and people were close to being evicted from their apartments. I refused visits from anyone, except a few old acquaintances. When I finally got out, it seemed like the whole world had changed, and I knew I had to either change with the times or get left behind.

All of this is what brought me here, surrounded by a cylinder of encrusted filth. The reason people refused to work on the problem was obvious: The cavernous system could collapse at any given moment, and if got caught inside when it did, it would never even make the next day's paper. I still had a job to do, and the hatch was harder to get open than I thought.

All of my tools flimflammed against the tight steel construction, and the continuous backsplash of fluid against my body wasn't helping. Groping for the radio, I tried to call up Brother but the signal had gone. The water level was rising at a dangerous pace and I opted to back out of the problem, but as soon as I took a handle on one of the exit ladder's rungs, it was too late. With an unexpected rupture, the troublesome hatch bent inward from the pressure. The sudden rush flooded all the waste out from under the city that night, taking me along with it.

I thought I was dying: My mind seemed to separate from my body as I swept through the bending pipe-ways. The water pressing against me suddenly became bright and clear, like fluid sunlight, supporting me indefinitely. I struggled to take a breath, but the warmth of the otherworldly bath caressed my nose and mouth carefully, suggesting that I not do so. It felt like forever, and the rush of the oxygenated liquid filled by ears, but there was another sound -– one I certainly wasn't expecting.

"Mario… you don't know how much I love you."

An abrupt sensation had thrust between my thighs, heading upwards toward my chest and neck; someone, somewhere had been guiding me. Before I could try to understand this, it all just cruelly stopped -- the bubbles and warmth were gone, and I had been left completely encased in sludge. As I broke through the surface, muttering voices became apparent.

"Once we get the refinery built here," one spoke, "we'll live like kings!"

"I'm not so sure about that," said another, "what would customers think about this plan?"

"Who says they have to know? Folks buy bombs regardless of what's inside them."

"But what will they think when they find out they've been purchasing their own waste?"

"Are you trying to make trouble, Professor?"

"No, Mouser, I just--"

"Then leave me!"

It took them a few moments to notice the small mound of brown poking though the stream below the platform they stood on. "What the hell is that?" said the larger one, surprised.

The smaller one crept closer to the edge, peering down. "It appears that we have a visitor," he declared, biting his lip slightly. Now that he was easier to see, I became aware of large, round glasses and a small tuft of hair smoothened to point on his head.

The large one kept hidden from view, but I could tell he had been the imposing boss behind the deal. "You mean he's from the other world?" he uttered, seemingly amused. "Interesting, very interesting… Take him."

A sudden stamping of feet could be heard behind my head. I tried to move, but the weight of the waste combined with my weakened state pinned me in place. With a final nod from their commander, the unseen attackers knocked me out, cold.


End file.
